I realized at some point that I hadn’t seen Henry in some time.  A glimpse of him always brought a profound sense of comfort.  The lack of him emphasized the absence of any assurance whatsoever.  I started looking for him intentionally…looking for comfort.  I remembered to keep seeking, keep hunting like he taught me…to look from a higher perspective even though Henry was missing, and he was gone (almost).

“It is not easy seeing what other people are not ready for,” Henry.

Though I’d much rather be soaring above the clouds or swept away by the sea, I had risen from the ashes before too.  I could do it again. Besides, I was born in a fire. I’m not afraid to burn for a cause.

Time to touch land and dry off…

There are two distinct things “he” said to me during this time:

The first, “What do you care if I want to be a scumbag?  What do you care what I do?”  Ow.  Instant shivers down my spine (not the good kind).  Years and years ago I said these exact words to people who loved me that tried talking to me about my addiction.  I know exactly where they come from.  They come from the extreme self-centeredness involved in not wanting to see or hear the truth.  They come from someone with little capacity to understand how they affect others.  They come from a runner (free karma anyone?).

The second, “I’ll do whatever I want and talk to whoever I want, whenever I want.”  I’ve said this too.

The mirror shows what needs to be seen. Not what we want to see.

To paraphrase a speech I once heard by Marianne Williamson, what happens when one cell decides to go its own way?  To do whatever it wants with no concern for the other cells?  It mutates and creates cancer.  If it’s not caught early enough, surgically removed, treated, monitored; it will eventually overcome the body. 

Likewise with humans, acting as individual cells to the larger body, humanity.

Although I hadn’t gone through his phone or had any physical evidence, the old thoughts and feelings (intuition) that come along with betrayal were creeping back up in me.  Just like he would have no resistance to a drink or a drug eventually without AA, he would have no resistance to other women either.  I understood that.  I would have to be the MOST beautiful, the MOST ‘everything’ to keep “him” and that is an impossible, exhausting feat.  Not unlike satiating the ego, addiction, darkness.  It’s NOT possible.  No matter how much it gets, it always screams for more.

(In AA they say, “There is a hole in my soul in the shape of God.”  Living unconditionally under certain conditions fills the gap…unconditional conditions, the old paradox.  The illogical.  The Truth.  (Personally, I usually refrain from using the word God and instead use terms like “light” or “dark” as to not turn away anyone who may need the core lessons.  It’s how I see things currently anyway.  When I pray, I do use the word “God,” but I see it more now as a sort of essence of greater good, than a guy in the sky.  It’s more than religion to me.  Think of it however you like.))

My daughter had my phone one day and this message came through from someone I knew from high school, “You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life.”  She read me the message out loud then stared at it with a question brewing behind her eyes.  “Does “he” ever tell you that?” she asked.  “No.  He’s never told me that,” I answered honestly, remembering instances when he had no problem naming others as attractive.  I wished I could have answered “yes,” but since I couldn’t, I was forced to see…   

Also of interest, when a man in a truck randomly honked at me, it suddenly wasn’t funny anymore to honk at women.

(If I may reiterate, dear reader, I have no loyalty left to give anyone’s ego.  To the soul?  All the devotion.  To protect darkness/ego/evil is to perpetuate highly destructive and ultimately lethal patterns.  They must be exposed.  It’s the only way.)

Now to fan the flames…

I gave it my all one final time and poured it into a conversation, knowing only one thing for certain…the answer is never to withdrawal love. And love tells the truth. 

I sat down with him and told him again that I was worried about him.  I told “him” that I knew there were other women in the picture.  I could feel it.  Our dreams of the future and all the work we had put into our relationship were so far away.  I said that I didn’t even need the truth from him, but that he needed to be honest with himself for himself and for reasons bigger than our relationship.  He denied that there were any other women but said that he would think about it more to be sure (sidenote:  if the tables were turned, I would have had nothing to think about).  

I said, “I’ve loved you every single day of the last 7 years. We are no closer to bringing this love together in a real way today than we were then.  Our love exists only in the ethers because you, my dear, are lost. If we can’t bring it down to Earth, I can’t keep giving you years of my life, hoping for the best and pretending that whatever this has turned into is the right path for me.”

We agreed to give it one month.  He would think about the things I had said, and we would try.  After one month we would have another conversation about the direction of our relationship and if we’re going to stick it out or go our separate ways…

A few days later, one early July morning, I received a text message from my oldest brother, the cancer survivor (Chapter 18)…he asked if I was awake so that he could call.  This was super out of the ordinary for him.  I said, “Sure, brother.”

I could tell right away by his voice that he wasn’t ok.  He had found out the night before that his new wife was talking to another man.  They were out to dinner, and she kept texting someone.  When they got home, he checked her phone while she was in the bathroom and found the messages.  He brought it up to her and she explained that it was just some guy from the gym.  She said that nothing had happened and that they were just talking.  She said it just made her feel good and that she would stop.

Oh no…

At that time, he believed her, but…I just know better now.  When they’re caught, they never tell the full truth initially.  They deny and downplay it to lessen their part because it’s too painful to face.  In time, he would see it on his own like I did. Although comprehending that it’s not personal but an indication of a person’s battle with themselves is a whole other level. At the same time, shame is ugly. To harbor it or to blame is a dead-end road. 

He asked if it came to it, could he stay with me.  “Of course,” I said.

They had been married only a short time.  I felt awful for him, for the children.  Betrayal is a monstrous mindfuck.  I know this firsthand.  However, I’m not unaware just how common infidelity is in this world.  Not anymore anyway.  I guess that’s why I wasn’t overcome with shock to hear. 

Still, I remembered that moment in the hospital…the moment I knew she loved him.  I saw the truth.  She was not a ‘bad’ one, but an incredibly good-hearted, lost one…something I’ve come to understand from the inside out.  I was once lost too, and I so desperately wish everyone could find the way and hold on tight to it…

Just why?  A million why’s…

My heart aches in anticipation of what comes next, and I present to you a word of warning…if you are sensitive to genuine horror (like me), please stop reading this.  We’re almost at the peak.

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